Faces #025

Celeste, Angel.

Years ago, I could say, many years ago, on a day like these days, a real special guy, I can’t forget, died.
His name was Celeste, maybe ’cause for true he was an angel, even if he looked like a character from a Tarantino’s or, better, a Wenders’ movie.
A friend of us wrote these lines, for us, for him.

– WARNING! IZ CELESTE –

I hope, old bastard, I hope so much,
you are on board of
a red bright cadillac now,
that you are there,
just a little way beyond here,
that you are at a Cramps’ gig now,
sipping your drink, gin and schweppes.

Dressed up as always,
boots, ripped jeans, shirt with turned-up sleeves and marine’s green cap.
You, for Olofson and Mancini, Boom and Botero,
Claudio, Silvia, me and the others,
you’ll always be with us, anyway.

I’m here doing a great life,
“Hi, you’re doing a great life!”,
and sometimes I don’t know what I’m really doing,
“What are you doing ’round, mother fucker!”,
But one thing I know,
Man, thanks for the drink,
Celeste.